


Triune

by skinscript (Infie)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s05e06 The Shrine, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/skinscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keller and Sheppard are united in their fear and grief over Rodney's decline... and it takes them somewhere they didn't expect to go but can't seem to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triune

_**The Beginning**_

Jennifer stepped into the quarters that they had effectively child-proofed for Rodney. His intellect was completely gone, rudimentary speech and a very limited recognition of people and objects all that remained. It was astonishing that such a small thing could bring such a vital man so low. 

Also terrifying. 

And heartbreaking. 

She moved silently through the main room, stepping up to the doorway that led to Rodney's bedroom. Teyla and Ronon had taken the adjoining rooms. 

He needed someone close by. 

She stopped in the doorway, surprised by the glint of moonlight on open eyes. After a moment her own eyes adjusted to the dark, and she sighed a little at the scene in front of her. 

Rodney lay on his side, his back to her. He was dressed in his pyjama bottoms and a heavy leather coat that had appeared early and that he'd refused to sleep without since Day 16. His shoulders lifted and fell in a rhythm she recognized as deep sleep. John lay beside him, equally dressed in nightclothes, his arm curled around Rodney's back, his shoulder being used as Rodney's pillow. He was awake, alert even, and he watched Jennifer closely. The observation wasn't threatening or angry, happy or annoyed at interruption. Instead it was merely... steady, watchful. Jennifer licked her lips, at a total loss of what to say. 

"I just wanted to check in on him one more time before bed," she offered lamely. John blinked slowly. Rodney stirred slightly, muttering, and John stroked his hand down Rodney's back soothingly. Rodney stilled. "I should... I should go," she said, turning halfway, stopping with her hand against the doorframe. "I..." She shook her head, blurted out, "He told me he loved me." She glanced at John out of the corner of her eye, but he remained silent, watching calmly. He raised one eyebrow at her, gently prodding, and she finished in a rush. "He told me he loved me and I just have no idea what to do with that. With this." She waved her hand helplessly, indicating with the gesture the scope of ... everything. All of it. 

John's face softened in some indefinable way, and he raised his free hand to her, palm up, offering. 

Jennifer's breath left her in a half-gasp, half-sob and she stumbled across the room to take his hand. He drew her down to the bed, cuddling Rodney between them and providing his forearm as a headrest. She moulded herself to Rodney's back, wrapping her arms around him, leaning her forehead against the back of his skull and snuffling against the soft hair at the back of his neck. She took in a deep breath and let it out in a shudder. With it came the tears. 

John leaned up over Rodney, and set his lips against her temple in a gentle comforting kiss. Her eyes jerked open to stare into his understanding ones from inches away. "I know," he told her in a whisper, gentleness in his voice she'd never really heard before. "Me either." He rested his cheek against Rodney's ear, closing his eyes. She swallowed another sob, lifted her face and kissed him back, a soft sharing of pain. John raked his free hand into her hair, held her in place for just an instant as he responded. He tasted of coffee and chocolate, and something bitter she recognized as grief. Between them, Rodney twisted a little and growled under his breath. 

They broke apart. Jennifer tightened her grasp on Rodney, burying her face against his shoulder and letting the sobs come. Dry eyed, John held them both. 

_**The End of the Beginning**_

John bared his teeth at his reflection in the mirror before yanking his t-shirt back up over his head. His hiss of irritation was lost in the shuffle of cotton, and he padded back into the bedroom to grab a turtleneck instead. He fucking hated turtlenecks. 

"We can’t keep doing this," he said flatly, his back to his bed. Silence answered him. "It doesn't matter _why_. Eventually, someone's going to notice." His hand lifted to the hickey marring his neck involuntarily, and the skin on his back shivered with remembered pleasure. He lifted his hands to pull the sweater up over his head, and cool fingers were suddenly there on his forearms, stopping him. Soft skin pressed against his back, warm lips against the nape of his neck, hands sliding around the flat of his stomach before dipping lower. John shivered again harder, his resolve wavering. He dropped the sweater and turned, his eyes sliding closed at the exquisite sensation of hot flesh sliding against his ribs. "Eventually the wrong person is going to notice, and you know he's going to be hurt. It's not going to matter why or how." 

"I know," Jennifer murmured against his mouth, moulding herself against him and gliding her hips against his in a rhythm that had him reaching for his waistband reflexively. "I know, but I just..." She gasped as he lifted her effortlessly onto the edge of his desk, pushing his pants down over his hips and rubbing against her shamelessly. She arched just right, and he slid inside in a motion that had them both gasping. His fingers flexed on her hips with a strength he already knew would leave bruises, his frustration with himself turning to roughness that always seemed to turn her on even more. She grabbed his shoulders, twisted to get him deeper, leaving marks of her own on his skin. "I just can't stop, John." 

He twisted his hands in her hair and pulled her head back, setting his teeth against her throat. Instantly she exploded, her tremors of completion drawing his own. John closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "I know," he whispered. "Me either." 

_**The Beginning of the End**_

"So you were attacked by mist-generating mutants," Jennifer questioned, the professionalism in her voice belying the tremble in her fingertips as she probed the thick bruises along John's sides and shoulders. John nodded silently, but she felt the betraying flutter of muscle as he reacted to her touch. She closed her eyes and turned away. "That must have been weird." 

"Very," John replied from right behind her. She could feel the heat from his body through the thin fabric of her uniform and knew he was standing as close as he could without actually touching. Always she had to reach out first, as if he couldn't force himself to close that space without her initiation. She clenched her fingers on the thick fabric bandages that would bind his ribs, fighting the desire to lean back into that reassuring warmth. She could feel her hair stir from his breath and knew if she turned his face would be blank and his eyes dark with desire and struggle. 

She picked up the bandages and turned into his arms. 

A strangled sound drew their eyes to the open door of the exam room, where Rodney stood pale and shocked and looking about to faint. He pivoted, clearly wanting nothing more than to escape. 

Jennifer hadn't known John could move that fast. Before Rodney could take a step John was behind him, holding him tightly and pulling him backwards into the room. As soon as they cleared the door it slid shut with a firm click, the crystals flashing to the red of a lock. John wrapped both his arms around Rodney, resting his forehead against the back of Rodney's neck, speaking softly but rapidly into his ear. Rodney didn't struggle. He simply stared fixedly ahead, body stiff with hurt. John's words became clearer as the roaring in her ears receded. "No no no, you don't understand, wait, wait, ok? Wait a minute, listen..." He sounded on the verge of being outright frantic, a tone she had never once heard from him. It broke her immobility, prodded her into crossing to them. She stood in front of Rodney, willing him to look at her. Instead, he stared over her head. 

"Rodney," she said softly, but firmly enough to get his attention. "You need to understand, you need to know how this started." He blinked rapidly at that but stubbornly refused to look at her. John's voice had lessened to a whisper but hadn't stopped. She deliberately didn't listen, knowing that particular one-sided conversation was not for her. "This started..." She stepped into him, sliding her hands up his arms, over John's forearms, back to Rodney's biceps and shoulders, kneading a little as she went. She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around them both as far as she could. "This started like this." She nuzzled her face into Rodney's chest, felt John's breath heaving under her hands. "It started with you, Rodney. With what we wanted from you. But then you came back to yourself and were so…" She pulled away enough to look up into his face. "It could end with you too. If you want it to end, it will." She felt John nod. Rodney was staring down at her, still pale but listening, his face as expressionless as she had ever seen it. She took a deep breath, and went for what she wanted. 

"But it doesn't have to. End. It could be you too, Rodney. If you wanted it to be." 

John froze into absolute stillness. Jennifer could feel tiny tremors wracking him under her hands, felt the answering shudders starting in Rodney as he stared intently into her eyes, frowning. "You're serious," he finally said flatly. Jennifer nodded, licked her lips nervously. Slowly, she leaned back into him, tightening her arms as she did, ensuring that John didn't escape. She touched her lips to Rodney's, her eyelids sliding closed as she surrounded herself with his scent and heat, and that of John behind him. 

"Please." She wasn't sure why she said it, but it fluttered against his mouth. "I'm sorry. Forgive me." 

Rodney parted his lips, and for one heart-stopping moment she thought he was about to refuse. Then his mouth came down on hers as if he were trying to map every millimetre, as if he was searching for something... as if he were chasing her taste around her mouth. As if he were chasing _John_ 's. She barely heard John's explosive breath, but she felt him release Rodney's arms. Rodney twisted in her grasp and pulled away from her mouth, compelling her to open her eyes. It looked as if John had started to step away but Rodney had gotten a hand into John's waistband, had towed him around to face them both, was staring into John's face intently. "You too?" He demanded hoarsely. 

John looked at him like he was expecting a punch. After a long moment, his eyes flickered to Jennifer and his lips twitched into a self-deprecating curve that looked nothing like a smile. "Please," he said, forcing the words out. It looked like it hurt. "I'm sorry. Forgive me." 

Rodney blinked at him. It wasn't until John bumped into her that she realised that Rodney had been pulling him inexorably forward. Automatically she let go of Rodney with her right arm so she could put it around John, embracing them both. "No endings," he said. 

Jennifer tightened her grip and then kissed them both. 

_**The Beginning, Again**_

"Nice turtleneck," Rodney said, dropping into his seat across from John with a wicked gleam in his eye. Beside him, Jennifer blushed. 

John grinned and stretched slowly, settled back into his habitual sprawl. "I like it," he said. 

_**The End**_

-30-


End file.
